


First and Last

by applejwoos (kenmarcadeblues)



Series: Fears of World; Hopes of World; Tears of World [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Character Death, Confrontations, Gen, The Arena, idk if the violence is all that graphic but i didnt want to take the chance??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmarcadeblues/pseuds/applejwoos
Summary: It's been about a week in the arena. A scratch on the cheek means Doyoung can't just rely on traps and stealth.





	First and Last

**Author's Note:**

> hey so um in last idol standing, Lucas died (BUT NOT NECESSARILY IN THIS AU OKAY LISTEN,,) so additions to his narrative will be delayed. 
> 
> in the mean time, enjoy this offering for doyoung 
> 
> sorry if the "" fight"" scene sucks I've literally never had to write one before

Serene. That's the word Doyoung's mind anoints the arena with in this moment.

Yes, it's a glorified cage he's been thrown into in order to fight for his life and everlasting glory, but surely the viewers across Panem can see that the forest biome it's currently set to is pretty pleasant, especially considering the circumstances.

The head Gamemaker has really outdone herself, Doyoung thinks. This year's arena boasts plenty of surprises and intriguing features. Multiple cornucopias have appeared; Doyoung has entered two thus far but when he tries to recall details about the second, all that surfaces are warped daydreams of his brother - 'It was kind of pathetic, the way that fog made you cry and whine. Probably hallucinogenic,' his partner, Moonbyul, told him later. As for the arena's structure, it's primarily a stonewalled maze with underground tunnels but every hour and a half, by Doyoung's estimate, that sinks into the ground and the environment morphs into a biome, such as this forest at present.

_It's an impressive feat of technology. It's brutal. It's serene._

Birds - not Jabberjays, thankfully enough - are singing sweet hymns as the breeze whistles through the myriad of plush leaves, tickling the man's ears as he works. The twenty-two year old could almost forget that he's in the Hunger Games, except that his hands are busy making traps to kill either animals or humans. It doesn't matter much at this point.

There's still a few rations in the backpack Moonbyul carries, and if she and Doyoung don't kill more Tributes, then others will take care of them or they'll die by natural causes.

Such is the nature of the Games, what the Capitol lives for. It's brutal.

It's serene. Doyoung turns his head, glancing at the grey-haired woman beside him. Her expression is focused yet relaxed, eyes trained on the rope between her nimble fingers. Nobody can see them perched up here, meters away from the ground and hidden among this tree's thick foliage.

_Nobody can touch District 5's Tributes._

Something flies past Doyoung's face and he swallows a yelp. Immediately, he traces the projectile's trajectory and prepares to dodge more. Moonbyul has a bow in her arm and her backpack thrown over one shoulder.

Nothing. His fingers find blood on his cheek. Their serenity is shattered and they have to go.

 

 

Nobody is in the immediate area. Nobody is, and yet, somebody must be. That dagger didn't come from nowhere.

It has to be them. The tiny, quiet woman and the skinny baker. They sound like quite the pair, when Doyoung puts them in simple terms like that, but they might just be his and Moonbyul's greatest threat. Powerful dark horses of this Games, hailing from the nation's grain sector.

"District 9," Moonbyul concurs with Doyoung's train of thought in an annoyed whisper.

They had managed to stay out of Irene and Taeyong's way up until today, but there's a first time for everything.

_A last time, too._

Minutes drag past in the stillness of the forest, but it feels like hours when another dagger lodges in Doyoung's shoulder. Moonbyul charges foward to hunt for its source, wielding her sword.

Doyoung doesn't touch the dagger. He rotates slowly, surveying the area with crawling skin and a burning sensation spreading near his neck.

There's movement in the corner of his vision. He throws a dagger in its direction. Then he throws again, and once more.

A small, strangled cry sounds and Doyoung races towards a boulder. "There's a Yongie," he concludes with a smirk. The closer he gets, the more obvious the human form laying on top of the rock becomes.

A grey, green, and brown toned Taeyong has a dagger in his chest but a knife in his hand. He swipes out as Doyoung scales the rock, slashing near his eyebrows and skimming his jaw.

Vision blurring quickly, Doyoung knocks Taeyong onto his back and twists the man's arm, causing the knife to slip from his grasp.

"Goddamn it! Irene! Irene, please!" Taeyong yells. They both know he can't handle hand to hand combat without a weapon. His attempts to kick at and overpower Doyoung are for naught.

Taeyong's body freezes when Irene's shrill scream rings out from somewhere in the trees. Upon hearing someone weave through the grass, Doyoung is met with a prancing Moonbyul, a satisfied smile sitting on her lips. There's not much blood on her hands. It must've been one of their traps. Lucky.

A cannon is shot.

"You," a small voice says, bringing Doyoung's attention back to the man pinned underneath him. "You guys wanted alliances, right? What about me? Let me live and I'll be completely loyal. I never thought of leaving Irene once." Taeyong's wide eyes are shiny in the sunlight. "Please."

Doyoung sighs. He hasn't had to kill one-on-one before, but that doesn't mean he can't do it now. "I'm sorry, you know I can't. It'd just be more trouble at this point. District 9 must fall, once and for all." He poises his dagger at Taeyong's throat and pushes in slowly, shivering as the blade cuts past layers of flesh. "You did well, Taeyong."

Another cannon is shot.

Fingers hot with adrenaline meet Taeyong's cooling eyelids, pulling them down in eternal serenity.

_Such is the nature of the Games._


End file.
